Everything is lost, shattered, gone.
And i am left here.
Standing,
Against my will.
Is that strengh, or foolisness?
(strengh someone whispered).
But i must be blind!
Too see through these tears,
This blood.
This terror that grips me in my sleep.
Pushing the mask to my face as morning comes,
Laughter sheathing the pain,
Hugging tightly, weaving the disguise.
They dont check my heart for a beat,
Since I'm smiling, it must be there.
(Right?).
Can i go on through this?
Or just shadow myself?
Vodka vomit showing my weakness,
Letting me tell them all.
Until morning comes,
And my blood,
Is once again my own.
Author notes
i wrote this after something a very dear friend said to he, when he was at a major low point. he thought i was stronger then him, but i couldnt explain that im not.
Written January 26th, 2006
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Comments
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lovely in a wierd way!
Wow! this is lovely! in a wierd way that i cant explain, the ending is amazing,
Until morning comes,
And my blood,
Is once again my own.
I suppose we all feel this vaunrable when were in a 'vokda' state! i miss our talks and our laughs and our good times! its not fair! hah! love ya honey.luv pand xxxxxxxxxx
PS, thanks for the vote and thing you left on my guestbook on my website! much appreciated! -
...i hate it when the border picture overlaps the bloody words!!! In a way, you're style seems similar to Panda's. I guess neither of you would consider that a compliment as you both want to be different. Haven't seen you in a while, where have you gone? Still at SDCC?? Anyway, this is a good bit:
'Hugging tightly, weaving the disguise.'
I'll see you on the flip flop I suppose...I hope you're supporting Pand's book by visitng her website too! -
vix none of this matters anymore. both are you are happier than i have ever seen u n if your not u need to tell me.
real gd poem tho...i love you
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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